


more than a healer, more than a killer, he is a brother

by lavilleons



Series: whenever there is rain, they appear [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, BAMFs, Big Brother Reborn, Dying Will Flames (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Family, Gen, Little Brother Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Medical Inaccuracies, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Tags Are Hard, Writing The Way I Want, Yakuza, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavilleons/pseuds/lavilleons
Summary: He went by two names before, Renato Sinclair and Reborn.Renato Sinclair was proclaimed dead in his twenties. A great hitman that had the potential to be the best if only he didn’t mess with the wrong people.Reborn died at an ambiguous age, with a body too young and a soul too old. Acknowledged as the best hitman, and a great teacher.Now, he is Ren. Time will only tell what he would be, or what he can be. Though, one thing is certain. Ren will strive to be the best big brother in the world.(Or, where Reborn is reincarnated in BNHA, doesn’t know what to do, and latches on to a role that helps him keep in touch with reality.)(Also known as, Ren [Reborn] being a protective brother to one Aizawa Shouta, and in turn, makes their universe a little bit better than others.)
Relationships: Canon Characters & Original Characters, Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!) & Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead
Series: whenever there is rain, they appear [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811524
Comments: 23
Kudos: 317
Collections: Reincarnation and Transmigration





	1. a revival, a continuation

* * *

_adrift in the sea,_

_waves rarely sleep,_

_winds seldom still,_

_no direction,_

_no stopping._

**.**

**.**

**.**

Reborn wakes up in a world vastly different from his own. A world possibly more dangerous than his previous one, only hidden by the general populace’s refusal to acknowledge reality. Instead, these people embrace the kind of heroes and villains that only come from comic books to cope with the harshness and danger that lurks right in front of them.

( _This world leaves a bad taste in Reborn’s mouth. It is unnerving. It is_ wrong _. The power alone that one could wield if born with the right Quirk, how they could be truly dangerous with certain mindsets. It screams danger, and it grates his nerves._

_It worries him, but he buries that thought as soon as it forms. Only holding on the feeling, as a reminder, that this world is much more dangerous than his last one and it doesn’t hurt to be cautious. For it has saved him multiple times in his past life._

_His Flames feels the imbalance as well. They crackle inside his body, in a place near his heart. They are unwilling to come into existence whenever he tries to summon them on his fingertips, or whenever he tries to summon them throughout his body. He completely fails to call them. They simply reel themselves back in that place beside his heart, content to settle and just stay put._

_Reborn is known as the Harbinger of Chaos (whether the Chaos he brings is intentional or unintentional is anyone’s guess), and therefore he can spot whether something momentous will occur sooner or later with signs and instinct. In this case, he doesn’t even need his instincts to tell him about the disorders and messes that will occur, the signs are obvious enough_.)

His former world while dangerous, lets the danger of supernatural Flames be endured by those that can take it. The Vindice alone made sure that civilians aren’t involved too deeply with the affairs of the Mafia, and held a semblance of order.

This world? It doesn’t appear as peaceful as it seems.

* * *

He was proud of his Italian roots, to an extent.

( _He was a street urchin. The blood that flows in his veins was as red as anybody else’s, but he wasn’t sure where it came from. Did it come from people across the seas? From people that journey the mountains? These thoughts were always in his mind when he was a kid, and appeared occasionally when he was a teen. Though, by the time he was an adult, they formed once in a blue moon. It mattered to him, to know his origins, but he never had the time to discover and learn more about himself._

 _He was too busy escaping death and danger, and it still rang true after he was cursed and after it was lifted._ )

( _A rather flimsy excuse, but unfortunately true, to a certain extent. Reborn could have made time for it,_ but he didn’t want to _. Reborn is entirely willing to admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that he did not want to deal with himself. He is a complete and utter mess behind the mask that he wears, and he knows that it does not help that he ignores his own emotions._

_He bottles it up, and leaves a note in his mind that tells him to deal with it ‘later’. The concept of time is a funny thing, and though it grates his nerves a little, that ‘later’ did not happen in that lifetime. Reborn thought that he’s lucky enough that he didn’t need to deal with his own messed up mind and emotions, in the creeping seconds he had left before he died, but apparently not._

_He should have known that the universe wouldn’t grant him what he wants… or maybe, it’s just Checkerface messing with him._

_Reborn didn’t even want to deal with the being if he_ is _the reason for this reincarnation, he is_ done _with the annoying alien-god that he’s entirely too willing to ignore his existence._

_He knows this will bite him back_ hard _someday, but that day isn’t today._ )

This made him think that he’ll be reincarnated in Italy again, but he doesn’t.

Reborn thinks Japan is satisfactory enough as a replacement.

( _He isn’t about to admit that Japan is_ more _than satisfactory, and is_ not _a replacement_. _It was not home, neither was Italy to be honest, but it etched enough bearable memories in his mind that it is a step above most countries._ )

**.**

Family, Reborn will admit under enough insistence, is something he can’t quite get the grasp of. To be more precise, family that are only tied by blood with relationships entirely formed by mere blood ties.

 _Famiglia_ , he understands, to an extent _. Family tied by blood_ , he doesn’t.

He knows that family isn’t limited to blood, and to some extent he thinks of the Arcobaleno as almost like family. Almost, but not quite. Though, it does not make their bonds any weaker whatsoever. The experiences that they shared made their bonds unbreakable, vastly different from family _or_ mere comradeship. It is an unspoken truth among them.

Being born already a part of a family, is a strange and unique ( _ ~~terrifying~~_ ) experience.

( _It baffles him. Why do they accept him so readily? It must be something beyond blood, because they could have easily left him with a relative or a caretaker, there is no need for them to be a part of the impossibly hard task of raising a baby._

_Reborn understands that seeing the growth of a child is a part of it, but that is the only thing he understands. It is more than satisfying to know that a child under your guidance will grow and reach the potential they have (maybe even surpass it), but he doesn’t know if he will have the patience to start with a baby. A baby, that can be limitless in potential, but is more difficult to handle than a child, teenager, or adult._

_It is a life wholly dependent on the people around them, and Reborn doesn’t know if he can handle such a delicate responsibility._ )

Though, he is not quite sure if he can stop the feeling of amusement that rises whenever he hears his given name.

 _Ren._ 蓮.

As it is told to him by a faceless relative, not expecting a baby to understand but still talks to fill the silence, his name is written with the kanji for ‘lotus’.

And if he remembers correctly the lotus, in some cultures, is known as a symbol of rebirth.

Reborn decides earlier on that he will never stop being amused whenever his given name is used.

**.**

Reborn’s family– _his family_ , seems to be wealthy.

( _He doesn’t have to worry about sunken cheeks, and hunger pains. Brittle bones, and weak muscles. No worries about when his next meal will be, no worries that the food he salvages is going to be taken as an_ offering _for the boss of the territory. There will be no vicious street people that will visit him in a place he thought to be safe, and subsequently torment him because they need a sandbag to release their anger on._ )

It can be seen in the way his relatives carry themselves, with the clothes that cover their skin, and the words that they use.

Reborn is grateful that this is the family he is born into. He’ll be grateful to be born to any family as long as they can put food on the table that is adequate for all the relatives under the same house. His standards are not as apparent as they seem. He is not always picky, contrary to popular opinion. He knows that there are times when one can afford to be fussy and not.

He does admit, without shame, that he is giddy with the opportunity that comes with wealth. He likes knowledge, likes to learn things for the sake of learning. He will make sure that every lesson that interests him and is available to him will be attended.

( _He is curious about the way of the bow, Kyudo, if he remembers correctly. A good alternative, because he does not want suspicions to rise once he immediately suggests to take gun lessons. His family also appears to be traditional, so they might prefer if he learns how to wield a gun later on or not at all._

_Reborn knows he doesn’t need those lessons about gun wielding, but he needs a reason for his expertise in guns, and some of the knowledge only comes with the appropriate experience._

_Other than that, he needs lessons in mathematics which is a favorite subject of his, learning history this time around might actually pique his interest, and calligraphy is interesting to learn but he had bad memories with ink and brushes and rather not revisit it this early on. Learning various languages is a_ hassle _, but a need, to see if there are differences from what he knows of from his past life, and a valid reason to know the various languages in his mind. He would like to avoid learning swordsmanship, if he had a choice. Reborn doesn’t know why he gets clumsy with a sword in his hand but it is a trait that he shares with the Arcobaleno, and so they don’t comment on each other’s ineptitude in the art._ )

If he will have the chance to learn things that he wishes to, at such an early age at that, then he will not hold back.

**.**

Reborn, or _Ren_ , as he is aptly named, basks in the silence. He never had an opportunity to bask in it, in fact even his earliest memories from his past life is tainted by shouts and screams and _gunshotsand–_

It makes him appreciate it.

He doesn’t mean the bitter silence that he leaves in his wake that is a sign of a successful hit, not the silence that follows his appearance in crowds either in awe or fear. Those situations still generate a buzzing sensation that he can feel, and almost hear, leaving him irritable and annoyed.

He appreciates the silence that one can afford when one is at peace with themselves, and at peace with the path they have set on.

( _It is the kind of peace that he partially succeeded in achieving towards the end of his life, when both his students are successfully doing what they ought to do whilst ignoring his own mind and emotions. When he died too young and too old at the same time._ )

It didn’t really occur to him that this will make _his family_ worry because, as far as they are concerned, he never babbles.

( _In his defense, he did babble, just not in their presence. His muscles do need the training to form sounds and then words, lisping is something he wants to avoid as much as he can, as it reminds him of his time as an Arcobaleno._

 _Crying, is a different story, it comes naturally to babies and he_ is _a baby. He would have stopped crying if he could, but even he cannot control his body when there is no means of control in the first place._ )

He thinks a doctor visited once or twice (and what an odd experience that is), and as he still cried here and there, not much alarm was raised.

“ _It would be a matter of time_ , _as you may already know,_ ” the doctor had said, “ _it just seems that the boy doesn’t bother with babbling, perhaps he will surprise you one day_.”

He doesn’t think _surprise_ covers the pride, smiles, and _tears_ that he brought to his relatives faces when he said two simple words;

 _“Mama? Papa?_ ”

His family is _odd_ , because he is certain that preparations for a party were being done as soon as they were done cooing and complimenting him, with additional comments of how he will grow to be successful.

( _It doesn’t stop the feeling of warmth that engulfs his body._ )

Though, he really shouldn’t be surprised that he is reincarnated in a family that is part of the underground, if the guns, swords, and tattoos were any indication.

He is surprised it took him this long to notice, but as his (assumingly) close relatives threatened those people with obvious weapons just by using their _gazes_. Well, he supposes being a baby is a factor, as well as his family’s protectiveness.

* * *

He isn’t quite sure who he is.

He _was_ Reborn, a name for a person that existed before, but is he still Reborn now?

Or is he _Ren_?

He didn’t have time to ponder over permanent changes of identity in the past. A time when _Renato Sinclair_ was in more trouble than he could handle, and his only way of escape is to fake his own death. Then, _Reborn_ was the one who rose from the ashes of that particular mess, though as tainted, if not more so, than _Sinclair_.

( _If he even gives a thought about it, the name he chose while significant is… literal, obvious, and flat-out ridiculous. It only continued later on when he named his partner, friend, and pet chameleon, Leon._

_He couldn’t take it back, as much as he wanted too, because somehow it succeeded enough to catch people’s attention and test his merit. It reached the point that his name became too big, and thus a hassle to change. Various people began hiring the hitman named Reborn, then he became Reborn the Hitman, and soon enough, Reborn the Greatest Hitman._

_The mess that followed that particular title-change was worse than the first one, and even if it took a long time, eventually it was fixed by his own student._ )

He was too busy surviving his second shot at life, before he can weigh the differences between _Renato Sinclair_ and _Reborn_. He was too busy to come into terms with his identities, and by the time the cursed was lifted he didn’t ponder about it.

Being busy, is the last thing a toddler can manage, so he has the time to tackle about the names he has adopted. He can’t draw from past experience about settling the matter between _Reborn_ or _Ren_ , and that results to digging deeper than he intended to come to terms about who he is right now.

There is the fact that he is a reincarnated soul, in a new body, and it is a literal new life that he is being given. Unlike in the past, where he just shed a name, and took another for survival.

He is almost a completely blank slate in this world, as opposed to a canvas covered in white paint to hide the colors that is still there and still exists in the past.

‘ _Ren_ ’, he tests in his mouth, a toddler’s mouth, a mouth that is in all essence _innocent_. He is Ren, but he is still Reborn.

‘ _For now._ ’ He thinks, because it will only be a matter of time before Ren will build up a real identity, rather than be a shadow of who Reborn was. _Ren’s_ upbringing will be different, and _Ren_ will be different from Reborn. Time will only tell how different the two can be from each other, and how similar they can be.

He is satisfied for now to acknowledge that he is still mostly _Reborn_ and a little _Ren_ , and that soon he might be more _Ren_ and less _Reborn_ , or there will be an equal existence for both _Ren_ and _Reborn_ in his mind.

( _Or, his mind whispers, he is still Reborn with just a new name, and changes that will come along with time._ )

He dearly hopes that he is handling this new chance in life correctly.

**.**

His family talks to him both in English and Japanese. It is odd, but not unwelcomed. He should have enough grasp of both languages that he can prove to be a genius at the young age of one or two, but that knowledge is buried in his subconscious. It is also notable that whenever he tries to pull the knowledge he knows is there, it all becomes a blur, like a part of him refuses to do it the easy way, or his mind does not wish to bombard him with too much information. He is left with the basics, and it turns out to be more than enough. 

It is a well-hidden secret of _Reborn_ ’s, that languages aren’t something he is particularly gifted with. The only reason he managed to learn the number of languages he knows is through sheer stubbornness and need, because it was a tool for survival. If he didn’t need to be a polyglot, then he wouldn’t have bothered learning any other language than Italian–a sad, but honest truth.

 _He_ rarely came across a skill that he couldn’t get the hang of after a few tries, and he thinks of it as a personal failing if he wasn’t adequate in a specific amount of time. It can go three ways; firstly, he gets the hang of a skill, gets smug, and makes sure to polish it more, secondly, he is atrocious at the skill and is resolute in not touching it ever again, and lastly, he is atrocious in a skill that is necessary for survival so he needs to persevere and get the hang of it, whether he likes it or not.

He got better at hiding the tinge of bitterness whenever he had to speak another language other than Italian, and as time passed he could admit that he no longer felt anything about it.

( _Animal and insect languages were more than a hassle to learn, and the only reason he succeeded in it was because he was an empath. Their languages relied more in feelings and emotions, and he only had to associate a specific emotion of theirs with a concept or idea. Easier said than done, as the first time he ‘conversed’ with a swarm of insects resulted to a mind splitting headache. It became easier when the children of the first set of insects he came in contact with knew which feelings to convey for a specific concept._

_It was why he was great at reading people based on the emotions that can be observed from their gestures and facial expressions alone, even if their faces were seemingly blank. He spent more than half of his teenage years trying to read insects’ emotions, not only from their minds, but from the miniscule reactions that their miniscule faces and bodies provide. Renato learned a lot from those interactions, and he only needed to apply it to humans._

_Being an empath was useful, he would admit that, but most of the time it was more trouble than it was worth. The moment his secondary Sun Flame ability manifested it stopped him from taking hits and resulted to him living as a recluse. Human emotions were too much too handle at that point. Renato needed to get a hang of it, if he wanted to live. So, he did. It was harder than learning another language, but it was still useful. Insects and animals didn’t make the best of informants, but he made do. The moment he could turn it off, he took a hit as soon as he could, living as a recluse didn’t make money. Money that he sorely needed in the underworld, and life in general._

_He only used his empath abilities when the need arises, or when he communicates with his animal and insect comrades._ )

It comes as a great surprise that he is getting the hang of both languages easily, and an important factor to consider is his young brain that is ready to soak up any information like a sponge. It is a contrast from Before, where he was already approaching his teens and just barely learned English in a year. He’d like to think that the hunger and frustrations he felt at that time was enough to hinder his learning process.

Learning both English and Japanese is something he thought would be a harsh trial early on in his young life, but it is nice to be corrected from such assumptions.

(It doesn’t hurt that his family enjoys talking to him, speaking to him, even with his lack of responses. Their voices that seems to ooze of love and warmth, of comfort and security, is enough to encourage him to learn the languages with _want_ instead of need.)

**.**

He realizes later on that his new life’s birthday, falls on the same day as his past date of birth. October thirteenth.

It took a while for him to realize that it was his birthday they were celebrating. He needed a crowd of people to surround both him and his family, where he is being carried by his _mother_ with his _father_ kneeling in front of him with a small circle cake. The crowd sings the Japanese version of ‘Happy Birthday’ followed closely by the heavily accented English version, and like a bolt of thunder, realization hit.

 _It was his birthday_.

He thinks that he might have been quite the sight, with his small mouth partially open, and whole face expressing bewilderment.

It is chaotic, _noisy_ , and overwhelming–in a good way. If he remembers correctly, it is also the day when his facial muscles ached because of the small smile that took residence on his face for more than an hour.

(The sheer number of pictures taken results to a whole bookcase of albums. Reborn thinks it is ridiculous, he thinks with practicality that the bookcase could hold more useful books filled with knowledge than albums of one toddler’s birthday.

Reborn would admit, only in the privacy of his own mind, that what he _thinks_ is different from what he _feels_.

 _‘He felt warm,’_ his mind traitorously whispers, ‘ _maybe also loved.’_ )

* * *

He grows, and _remembers_.

( _Renato Sinclair wasn’t a genius, or a prodigy. He was only an orphan who became a street rat that wanted to survive the unforgiving world he lived in. Everything he did, he did to survive, because he thought that someday instead of surviving he would be_ living _. He wasn’t a genius, or a prodigy, he had above average intelligence coupled with charisma and good looks. He knew just what to say for a street vendor to offer him fruits free of charge, knew how to keep other people close and care about him at least a little, knew how to wrangle instructions for survival from someone that portrays themselves as beggars but their skin was too clean, clothes too soft, cheeks full and not gaunt, and–_

– _he learned._

 _He learned to see and observe, learned to think quick and act fast, learned to wear a smile carrying threats, learned to shroud himself in importance (and in time he does not need to, because he simply_ is _important), overall, he learned a lot to survive. If he had the time, he was sure it would have taken him months to learn what he is being taught, but the streets are cruel, their people atrocious, and street rats cannot afford the leisure of learning in an extended duration. So, he learned quickly, forced himself to swallow all the information and knowledge being offered until it felt like he should gather and release it all out of his mind. For it to remain outside his brain and be forgotten–but he can’t. His temples may throb, headaches occur in frightening frequency, and his nose may bleed here and there but he forced his mind to accept all the information. To file it away, to learn everything as soon as he can. It should have taken him months, or at the very least a year, to process so much knowledge and to learn all the practical lessons of life, but he managed to take it all in for a few weeks and days._

_It was interesting, how the sheer determination to live can affect a person._

_He was only reaching his eighth birthday._

**_._ **

_One of his favorite dreams involved becoming more than a street rat. He dreamt that he was offered an opportunity by a police officer of high standing, willing to fund his education to any path Renato wishes to tread. He did his best in that dream, an assurance that he will not fail the police officer’s trust in him, and he was greatly rewarded._

_In this dream, Renato Sinclair wanted to be a police officer, to be just like the man that his mind created. A good person with a respectable occupation, willing to lend a hand to those in need. One who had a pay that would be enough to fill his stomach, keep him clean, and have a real house to take refuge in. It was a dream, and only a dream. As well as a reminder._

_A grim reminder that dreams would stay as dreams._

**.**

_He was nine years old when he awakened his Sun Flames and killed a man wearing a police officer’s uniform._

_Kill or be killed._

_It was a question whether Renato Sinclair had the will to survive and to live, with less than clean hands. It should have been a hard choice, but it wasn’t._

_The bastard offered him an illusion, pretended he had a choice to fight back when he was already beaten and bruised with blood on his clothes. He offered him a gun to fight back while he was wearing a slimy grin with crazed eyes. A gun that was heavy, a gun that he wasn’t sure if it was loaded or not. The bastard said that they’d both fire against each other on zero, and Renato was desperate._

He wanted to live _._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

_A gunshot rings in the silence of the alley._

_Renato Sinclair survives._ )

Everything is still a mess.

(Everything is turning into a bigger mess.)


	2. anew, abide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reborn should have known that the questions about 'who he is' wouldn't settle easily and quietly.
> 
> Ren introduces his father.
> 
> Ren knows early on that people avoid their family, but he somehow ends up getting a friend.
> 
> (The question is whether or not he can stop their friendship from being ended swiftly.)

_he stops,_

_he decides,_

_the skies are clear,_

_the sun is shining,_

_still in the sea._

* * *

**.**

**.**

**.**

( _W_ h _o i_ s _h_ e _?_ )

**.**

Is _Renato Sinclair_ dead?

( _In paper, he is. In body, he is. In soul, is he?_ )

Is _Reborn_ dead?

( _In paper, he is. In body, he is. In soul, is he?_ )

He doesn’t _know_.

(And that, that terrifies him.

_Not knowing_.)

**.**

For the longest time, he knew that there were cracks spread throughout his very being. Some big, some small. It covered him entirely. It is his sheer stubbornness that stops him from falling apart.

That’s what he would like to think.

But the truth is, his willing ignorance played a greater part than his stubbornness.

It would have been great if those cracks disappeared alongside the weight of his former body, but the cracks are a part of his soul. His soul that is being given another chance to live once more.

( _He wonders if this is a blessing or a curse. This chance being given to him. A new start on life, but with past memories still intact. He ponders, then sneers. It didn’t really matter whether someone wanted him to suffer or if they wanted him to enjoy this new life of his. He would just do what he always did best. Survive._

_He has always survived everything the world threw at him in the past, sometimes barely, but he overcame it all. That, was the most important part._

_In the hidden depths of his mind, he knows that he prevailed over the world and over other people, but sometimes he_ wonders– _can he survive against himself? When he falls apart, can he piece himself back together?_ )

This opportunity forces him to gaze at the person he has become. Without the masks, or veils. A deed that he has never done Before. Uneasiness swells inside him, and he hears a familiar string of excuses. They are said in harsh whispers. These sweet lies that he told himself over and over again. False assurances of how there is no need to go through such an ordeal because he _is_ fine.

( _But he isn’t, and he never was._ )

He prepares himself, because he can’t put it off any longer.

( _As much as possible, he wants to face everything head-on without delays. There are more chances for everything to go horribly wrong once they are delayed. He knows this. Accepts this as easily as he accepts the knowledge on how the Earth revolves around the Sun, and the Moon revolves around the Earth. He does face everything head-on, when he knows it is the best choice to make. Exceptions are made, however. For he faces everything head-on, but himself._ )

His excuses that were already weak, grew weaker in the face of this unprecedented situation. He thought he already had it all figured it out. But, it turns out that his earlier conclusion still leaves him unsatisfied. The inside of his mind is still a chaotic mess. A labyrinth that even he himself is confused by. He meanders. The fact that his meandering thoughts always end up questioning his sense of self, is quite telling.

He decides that ripping the veil that obscured his sight of his core and soul, would be the best choice. No chances of talking himself out of it.

He rips it off, quickly and efficiently. The sound echoes in his mind. Until, it just stops.

He can see it now. His soul that is littered in cracks and bruises that he successfully ignored in the past. He is struck, by the true extent of the damages he refused to acknowledge. He _is_ hideous. _He_ is revolting.

(“ _He wasn’t a genius, or a prodigy, he had above average intelligence coupled with charisma and good looks.”_

_Only, he didn’t_ truly _have good looks. He was a rotten apple, and it wouldn’t have taken too long before that reflected on the outside._ )

It strikes a chord within him, and signals the re-emergence of an emotion that he is all too familiar with.

_Terror_.

( _Terror can be an old friend, but not a good friend. It doesn’t even come near the meaning of ‘good’, at best terror is a clingy companion that he can’t get rid of. At worst, it can be called a stalker. The way he refers to it depends wholly on his mood, or the situation he is in. After all, terror aided him in his quest of survival, and often helped him take control of both situations and people for his own benefit._ )

The sight of the cracks without anything to obscure it incites terror within himself, because what will happen to him, once it all breaks apart? When the cracks become fragments, what can he do then?

* * *

It is an easy choice to make. There is the uncertainty of his continued existence once he falls apart. He doesn’t know if he is capable of putting himself back together. There is no one out there that can help him, because he knows deep inside, that he should be the one to piece himself back together. No one is by his side in this world to support him. Now, he truly feels the absence of Leon’s comforting presence, the bugs’ and animals’ soothing chattering.

Before everything falls apart, it would be better if he broke himself apart first.

Into pieces that he can, at the very least, _manage_. 

.

( _Renato Sinclair._

_Reborn._

_Ren._

_He is alive._

_He is whole._

_He breaks himself apart._

_Renato Sinclair._

_Reborn._

_Ren._

_They are three parts of a whole._

_They can survive._

_They_ should _survive._

_… one of them should be able to._ )

* * *

His family worries about him, an odd experience, but he ignores it. It crosses his mind that he should act like a normal toddler, and he _does_. The problem is, his family knows that he is just acting. It frustrates him, partly because they know he is acting, partly because he does not need their worry, and partly because he does not want them to worry. What is easily the most frustrating is that he cares about them.

_Reborn_ wants to laugh, a laughter tinged with incredulity. He also wants to make sure that he is sane, somehow, but he also realizes that his sanity is already questionable in the first place.

_H_ e refrains from telling his family about his problems because he fears the possible repercussions.

( _He already felt looks of disdain thrown his way. There were also furious glares, looks of distrust or disgust, and faces encompassed by an all-consuming fear when others cross paths with him._

_H_ e _isn’t sure if he can handle it when his family does that to him, and he wishes that he’d never had to discover so._ )

He knows, at a tender age of three years old, that remembering memories from a past life isn’t normal. It is strange, and also unnerving. If it is a family member of yours that claims to do so, then disbelief is the immediate emotion to feel. When they do realize you are speaking the truth, then fear, disgust, and anger will follow. Well, that is what Ren thinks will happen if he spoke of his fuzzy memories that have been in the back of his mind since he was born. For he knows that it is a normal response. That it is the only possible response.

( _Reborn knows it is the natural response._

_He questions his very existence from time to time, if he is real or not. He already knows that Flames don’t work the way it should be, so the probability of him being caught in Misty Illusions is low. Low, because he is the Strongest Sun and even the strongest Mists, like Viper, Rukudō Mukuro, Dokuro Chrome, and Fran, cannot contain him too long–especially when he is aware that there is a possibility that he is under said Misty Illusions._

_The thought then circles back again to the alien-god Checkerface. The memories that he has access on so far don’t show a reason as to why the alien-god might do this to him. Reborn is also partly sure that Checkerface wouldn’t make an illusionary world where random people can just receive abilities that no normal human could possess. It is because he is completely aware that the alien-god looks down on humans and would never willingly bestow power upon them unless they have proven to be worthy of it._

_This is why he also questions his sanity, because this could be a world that he just thought of in the middle of a coma or something similar. Though, if he is being quite honest, there is no chance his mind thought this all up. The abilities called ‘Quirks’ throw him off. These abilities that can vary so differently from person to person which can also manifest within their body, is something very far from the Flames that he knows. There may be Quirks that are similar to Flames, but the other Quirks are something so different that he couldn’t have possibly thought of them. There is also the fact that some of them seem so restrictive that it slightly unsettles him._

_Though, he can admit that calling these abilities ‘Quirks’ is something that is within his level of naming._

_Once he lets himself ponder about ‘Quirks’, it takes a significant amount of time for his mind to latch onto something else. Quirks may be restrictive, unusual, and different from what he is used to–but some of them are interesting enough that it catches his attention. Mainly, those Quirks that alters the body. It is fascinating to observe and wonder, on how their bodies functions with their respective ‘Heteromorphic’-type Quirks. How does a specific animal’s biology merge with a human’s? Do complications arise, or are these complications taken into consideration by the Quirk as well?_

_Reborn is doubtful about it, though it could possibly go a number of ways that depends on the degree of their Quirk and their subsequent compatibility. He is already aware of how some babies that are born with Heteromorphic-type Quirks have a low survival rate. Though, less likely due to complications than humanity’s fear of those who were born vastly different. This fear resulted to few studies being made on people with Heteromorphic-type Quirks, something Ren’s mother complains about and is in the process of changing._

_He wonders if Ren will develop a Quirk, even when he can feel the steady hum of Flames inside of him. They seem to refuse answering his calls. It wouldn’t really matter. The people who are in possession of Quirks don’t seem to be that many, it wouldn’t be to odd if Ren is without one._ )

Though, Ren is not quite sure how his father would react. His father is strange. It is obvious even to his three-year-old mind. He should be someone’s weird uncle, and not someone’s strange father. He can accept a father bribing their child to behave. He can’t accept a father _blackmailing_ their child to do what they want. Which is what his father is doing right now.

“Ren-chan, you wouldn’t want Okā-san to know that you read books well over your bed time, would you?”

As he glares at the man squatting in front of him, there is a need to tilt his head. His father is a beanpole, with enough height that would make anyone uncomfortable once they go near him. His choice of footwear doesn’t help, as his _geta_ lends him more than a few inches. So even when he squats down, Ren can barely see his father’s face without falling over–and he’s already _standing_.

“Well, what do you say Ren-chan?”

Ren would have liked to say that he had a terrifying expression on his face, but then he would be lying. Chubby cheeks and large eyes aren’t a big help when one wants to scare people. He probably looks like he’s pouting, _but he isn’t._

He is really looking forward to the time that he would look more threatening than a rabbit.

Without waiting for any response, his father lifts him up from the ground. Ren feels a flash of panic at the widening space between his feet and the ground. He closes his eyes, and waits impatiently for the moment to pass. He feels his legs settle around his father’s shoulders, and he quickly locks his feet together. Once hands are no longer under his armpits and supporting his weight, Ren grips and pulls his father’s hair as hard as he can. A small revenge.

His father endures the pain well and doesn’t make any noise. Ren knows his strength. It isn’t much, but he can see the skin under his grip being pulled along. The lack of reaction annoys him, so Ren gives a final tug before settling down.

He didn’t even realize that they haven’t moved from their spot yet.

He feels the hum, before he hears it. A steady hum that makes the tension in his body leak away, and makes him lean over his father’s head for support. The sound continues on for a few more minutes, and Ren is so close to feeling drowsy when it stops.

“You know, Ren-chan,” his father starts. His tone strangely serious that Ren holds his breath. “I wouldn’t just drop you to the ground all of a sudden.”

Once he fully absorbs what his father has said, he frowns. His father is a trickster whose source of amusement can come from the unlikeliest of places. The possible implications that spring up from the way he used his words–well. It makes him uncomfortable.

“Does that mean… that you’d still let me _fall_?” Ren asks slowly, to avoid lisping. His words are covered with disbelief and a sprinkle of fear. “ _To the ground?_ ”

“No-” his father pauses, clearly reconsidering the answer he gave. “Maybe? Of course, I have to make sure that you’re near enough, or there is something to soften the fall.”

“That isn’t reassuring at all, _Papa_.”

As his _papa_ holds his breath, his very being stills. A common enough occurrence when Ren uses the word _papa_. It holds a power over him, one that Ren is willing to use. His mother advised him to use it infrequently, so that it wouldn’t lose its effect. He took his mother’s advice to heart, and it resulted to a number of sweets, toys, and books.

Ren knew he could have used it earlier, so that he wouldn’t be forced to go to the park and help his father avoid his work. But, he never minds spending time with his father. What he does mind, is the place his father picked. The park would mean people, and most people don’t have the best opinions regarding their family.

“As long as you want my help and I have the power,” his father begins with a confident tone, “I will make sure that I will help you rise when you fall, Little Flower.”

Ren frowns as he lightly tugs at his father’s hair. He’s already used to the nickname, but the rhyming was a bit too much.

“You should have said that first.” He grumbles at his _papa_. He may grumble, but he feels his heart is warm from his father’s words. His father always means well when speaking with family, but sometimes he can’t convey it well with his words. Still. He should blackmail his father in return, see how he’d like being in the receiving end. “I’m still going to tell Okā-san that you might drop me to the ground, on purpose.”

His father laughs, thoroughly amused by the threat. A tint of discomfort can be heard in his laugh, but Ren doesn’t mention it.

Though, there is no need to hide his satisfaction from causing said discomfort. 

This is the picture they paint as they leave their home. A father laughing with his eyes closed and too many teeth that shows. His large hands settled on his son’s knees, just to make sure that his child wouldn’t fall to the ground. The son is gripping his father’s hair showing his discomfort with the height, but there is a small smile on his lips nearly obscured by his father’s messy hair.

* * *

The park looks like a cross between an obstacle course and a playground, with the primary goal being enjoy every equipment as much as you can while having as few injuries as possible. There is a climbing dome at the center, with monkey bars and climbing nets surrounding it. Beside them are a couple of balancing beams that are either straight, curved, or have sharp turns. Away from the rather hazardous equipment, there are more than four slides. Some for the big kids and some for toddlers. There are a number of the usual swings, sturdy and comfortable-looking. Spring riders that resemble animals, that ranged from foxes, oriental dragons, phoenixes, tigers, birds, turtles, and deer. There are also a few sandboxes with varying sizes, not clustered together and a good distance away from the other equipment.

Though, most of the children aren’t in those areas. Instead, they are waiting for their turn on the park’s most popular attraction, the zip line.

Ren would have liked to try it as well, but as much as he likes the sun, the summer heat was just too much. This is the reason why he is in a medium-sized sandbox, under the comfortable shade of a large tree. He looks over his shoulder to check on his father. He had taken ownership of one of the benches near the tree’s trunk, also taking advantage of the shade it provides.

A few seemed to follow their lead, but they didn’t want to be in the same shelter where he and his father are in. Even when it is the only available shade near the play areas and benches very much available.

Apparently, they prefer the heat on their backs rather than being near the pair of father and son.

He understands that his father’s height makes him a little terrifying, but he does try his best to look as unthreatening as possible. Which is why whenever he sits outside, he curls up his long limbs as near to him as possible. Ren flicks another look at his father, and then frowns at what he sees.

His figure looks relatively carefree. His ankle placed on a knee, and an elbow perched on a wooden armrest. From the settled arm, he presses his face against its knuckle. His father’s posture looks approachable, the only problem is his expression and overall air. He projects himself like a god sitting on his throne, intrigued by the foolish acts that mortals seem to partake in.

Well, another thing to report to his mother.

Though, Ren admits that it is not his father’s whole fault as to why people are wary of them. There are many rumours about their family, most of them leaning towards unsettling. It had a lot to do with the fact that suspicious people in suits and kimonos visit their home. His grandparents’ jobs are also quite the mystery, and this makes space for people’s imagination to go wild with the possibilities. It doesn’t help that they rarely leave the boundaries of their home, and when they do leave it is when they are with family, alone, or accompanied by suspicious figures.

Ren builds an army of sand crabs while lost in thought. He is a little affected by the way they are treated. The whole ‘avoid them’ attitude may not bother his parents and grandparents, but it gets a little ~~( _lonely_ )~~ annoying. The only reason that Ren isn’t more vocal about his complaints, is because he still manages to converse with the workers of their home.

He frowns as a pair of shoes enter his line of sight, uncomfortably close to the first line of his crab army. 

Ren looks up, sees blond hair and green eyes and–

( _Colonnello is–_ was _his rival. Determined and stubborn. It wouldn’t have been a surprise to any of them if Death can’t reap his soul when he still wants to live. He remained optimistic even when he has seen the horrors of the world. He was an unexpected addition to their group, at first unwelcomed by everyone but Lal Mirch._

_It never stayed that way._

_He was brash and annoying. Found the easiest ways to rile people, and the quickest ways to placate them. He knew when a joke or two would only result to a sigh instead of death threats. Colonnello, whose blue Flames told everyone that he was a Rain, acted like the personification of the sun. At times too much, but never unwanted._

_He was a presence that tied the Arcobaleno together._ )

–speaks.

“Don’t stand too close to my crabs.”

Sanpaku eyes blinks, Ren wonders if it is a normal blink or if it a surprised blink.

“I thought they were spiders.”

Ren scoffs at the reply. His sand crabs looked exactly like crabs. The other kid clearly didn’t know the difference about a crab and a spider. For one, crabs have pincers where spiders have fangs. They also had different body shapes.

Spiders, _really._

He repeats the other’s sentence in his mind, and he realizes why they approached him. There were small inflections with the other’s manner if speaking, inflections that were different from the way Ren and the other people who lived in the area spoke.

A tourist, or someone’s family was visiting.

No one probably warned them about Ren’s family. Either they forgot to warn them, unlikely, or they didn’t have the time to warn them, likely.

Ren expects an adult or another child to intervene and take the other away, sooner or later. It just means that he needs to make the most out of the short conversation he would share with the child of unknown pronouns.

First things first, the pronoun.

“Are you a he, a she, or a they?” Ren asks frankly. The other blinks, again.

Ren is reminded of another reason as to why he didn’t complain much about the lack of conversational partners. He doesn’t mind surprising people or causing them discomfort. Sometimes, he may enjoy it a bit too much. What he does mind, is when it starts to get in the way when he wants to talk with other people. The constant surprise or discomfort makes people unwilling to continue any line of conversation with him, and it gets annoying. Especially when Ren wants information that he suspects the other has.

Still, he decides to wait patiently for an answer.

“My name is Hakamada Tsunagu–“

( _Tsunayoshi. Sawada Tsunayoshi._

_Dino. Dino Cavallone._

_He always had mixed feelings with the children he taught._

_Reborn never wanted to involve anyone in the world of the Mafia. It didn’t matter if they were an adult or a child, he wouldn’t doom another human to suffer the same way he had. He always thought it was ridiculous how other people seem proud to involve their families in their tainted world, even their own flesh and blood._

_No child, Reborn thought, should be forced to shoulder the burden of living in the shadows._

_No child, Reborn confessed, should be born with a target painted on their back._

_No child, Reborn knew, should ever feel unsafe in their own home._

_It was quite a well-known fact, that the children of the Underworld never really had much of a childhood._

_Reborn did his best in making sure that the children he taught could protect themselves, because he knew that it was the only thing he can do._

_But… the thing is, he knew that it shouldn’t be the only thing he can do._

_He should have saved them. He should have protected them. He shouldn’t have let them be involved in the mess that was caused by the so-called adults._

_Reborn should have done a lot of things, but he never did._

_He always wondered, inside his heart, if he was any better than the adults who doomed him to his fate all those years ago._

_He knew the answer._

_He wasn’t._ )

“–I am a boy, if that is what you are asking.” He knits his eyebrows, almost unseen by his fringe. “Is something wrong with my clothes?”

Ren feels his eyebrows shoot up as the other asks his question. The other boy is wearing nothing wrong. He can even be called _fashionable_ , well, as much as a child can look fashionable.

Hakamada Tsunagu is wearing blue trousers that shows his ankles, and a cotton seersucker shirt. His feet are wrapped in dark brown sandals, and a beige straw hat with a navy blue band is nestled on top of his head. An airy triangle scarf with varying blue floral prints is settled around his shoulders, big and wide enough to cover his neck and the lower half of his face. His hair falls to his shoulders in waves, and all in all, Ren is distinctly reminded of children models.

“There isn’t anything wrong with your clothes,” he replies. Then, he thinks about what he should say next. “It’s just that clothes can be worn by anyone. You could still wear the same clothes even if you were a girl, and I didn’t want to unknowingly insult you by using the wrong words.”

Hakamada Tsunagu seems to think over the words that he heard, and Ren waits for the inevitable departure of his conversational partner. It was a nice conversation, even if they only exchanged a couple of words. He turns his attention to his sand crabs, who are still whole and undamaged. Though, the boy’s feet are still uncomfortably close to them.

A couple of minutes pass by, and Ren focuses all his attention in adding details to his crabs.

When he hears the rustle of fabric, the other’s feet move one step backwards and Hakamada Tsunagu crouches in front of him. Ren is struck with a sudden realization that this is the first time he is eye level with someone.

“I think you know a lot of words,” the boy says, and nods his head once, “but I think I understand what you’re trying to say.”

It is Ren’s turn to blink. It’s always nice when someone takes your words into consideration, and this is the first time that someone other than the people in his home spoke to him normally. He thinks being surprised is a given.

Ren accepts the fact that this would probably the only conversation he would share with Hakamada Tsunagu, because people will tell him soon about the rumours that surrounds Ren’s family and how it is better to avoid every single one of them.

‘ _It was a nice conversation,_ ’ He repeats in his mind, ‘ _and he was a good person to talk with. It’s almost unfair that we can’t chat anymore._ ’

Green eyes stare at him, and Ren stares back. It would take more than that to unsettle him.

The corner of Hakamada Tsunagu’s eyes crinkle, then he closes his eyes. Ren looks closer and notices the way his cheeks are pushed upwards.

He is smiling.

“I’d want to be friends with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh,” Ren can hear an airy laugh behind him, but he can take revenge on his father later. A person wants to be friends, with him, Aizawa Ren.

In the back of his mind, he knows that it wouldn’t last. He knows that the other would be urged to stop talking with him, to stop being friends with him. Ren knows that if he accepts the hand being extended to him in friendship, he would just suffer. As soon as people hear about it, they would do their best to urge the Hakamadas to avoid Ren and his family.

In the end, he would just be hurt.

( _B_ u _t_ p _a_ i _n_ i _s_ a _n_ o _l_ d _f_ r _i_ e _n_ d.)

After taking a deep breath, he says:

“My name is Aizawa Ren.”

and

“I’d be honored to be your friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing is, I kind of know how to end this story but I don't know the middle parts of it so. Updates will be really slow, but believe I will try to finish this story. I'm trying to make an outline, but this chapter had an outline and I'll just say some things weren't done. So, yeah.
> 
> Reborn's Crisis will not be easily settled, believe me, it's not a one time thing. That, and reincarnation is something that will be hard for him, because of his life from Before. The other Arcobaleno (when I write their stories) will have an easier time but not him. 
> 
> Hakamada Tsunagu is actually someone I decided earlier on to be Ren's friend, which is why they're the same age. I have to admit, that at first I didn't notice that his name had 'TSUNA' in it. Dumb, I know. 
> 
> Fair warning, I'm going to write this kind of for myself, but I'd be happy to know if others enjoy it too. Characters will be powerful, and this universe would be a happier universe than Canon.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure what is supposed to be written here...
> 
> But, I am hoping that this will be a story that I can update frequently and finish. This is a part of a series where the Arcobaleno (no Luce or Uni) are reincarnated in the MHA/BNHA world and are also related to some of the canon characters.


End file.
